My Sakura, Agapi Mou
by SapphireCarnation
Summary: Honda Kiku, a Japanese noble, has never wanted anything in his life. He has worked for the emperor, and has had no problems until now, when he is ordered to condemn an innocent man. Heracles Karpusi, a Greek outlaw, has been running from his home country for nearly an entire year. He must find a place to take him in soon, lest he find himself starving...or dead.


The dark sky glimmered with the brilliance of a thousand stars that night. The moon shone brightly, illuminating the gardens outside. A rather slender, lithe man stepped into the cool night air, wrapping his kimono tighter around himself. His dark brown eyes looked over the beautiful scene before him. It was a peaceful night, one where he could relax and forget his troubles for a while. The tasks that the emperor gave him were overbearing at times. As the magistrate, he was to enforce and judge the laws and those who broke them. However, there were cases that were not only bribed, but were ridiculous as well. How was he, Honda Kiku, supposed to convict a man of something he did not do? The emperor ordered it...but it was simply unjust.

 _No...I must not think of that now. It will only cause me stress._

He took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. The man stared down at his smooth, pale hands and slender fingers. He had never seen a day of manual labor in his entire life. A noble did not receive callouses. He pursed his lips, dread settling into the pit of his stomach. He was rich. He had all the finest silks, teas, and servants the emperor could provide. His home was large and comfortable.

It would all be taken away if he showed the smallest sign of disobedience.

Kiku stretched his arms, his light skin shining like porcelain in the moonlight. He didn't want to worry about that right now. There was nothing he could do, and he knew that thinking about it would only make it difficult for him to sleep. He turned to go back inside his house. As he slid open the shoji, he heard a few footsteps not too far away. He whirled around, but only saw a flash of brown before it disappeared. The man rubbed at his eyes. _I must be getting so tired that I've begun to see things that aren't there..._ Leaving it at that, he went inside and shut the shoji behind him. His bare feet made not a single sound as he moved gracefully across the hallway to his bedroom.

His room wasn't anything extraordinary; sometimes the man preferred simpler things. He laid down on the mat and pulled the blanket up over him. Closing his eyes, he relaxed his muscles and steadied his breathing. The only other sound was the wind. As his mind drifted into a peaceful sleep, he did not once consider the possibility that he was being watched.

* * *

Meanwhile, beneath the brilliance of the stars, stood a tall man with piercing green eyes. He stood near the edges of the garden as he waited for a sign that the owner of the house was definitely asleep. When silence overtook the atmosphere, he exhaled a sigh of relief. He took a daikon from the garden and inspected it. _This looks edible..._ Shrugging, he took a bite. It was spicier than he would've liked, but he'd had worse.

It was better than starving.

For months, now, he had been on the run from his home country, where he was known as the infamous Heracles Karpusi. He was a thief. However, it was not out of spite, but out of necessity. He had refused to die so easily, so quickly. He hated to think that he was a simple flame to be snuffed out. No, he would keep himself alive long enough to do something great. His thoughts kept him going as he made his way across the garden. By now, the man's muscles were weak with fatigue and lack of nutrition. He was still strong, but not as fierce as he had once been. He had...mellowed down quite a bit. He was growing tired as he thought.

His mind jumped back to the owner of the house.

The slender man had looked delicate, almost to the point of appearing frail. However, Heracles had to admit that he was beautiful. His sleek, black hair contrasted his porcelain skin in a way that was almost surreal. His dark brown eyes held hidden mysteries that he was tempted to unravel.

Heracles looked down at his own hands, which were rough and calloused. They had been torn up by years of work. His skin was a light olive tone, which stuck out in this country of white-skinned people. It would be difficult to hide from the authorities here. However, he didn't know how much longer he could last if he was always on the move. He liked the house he stood next to, and decided that its gardens could be his main source of food for now. There were so many plants. It was unlikely that the owner or any of the servants would notice if a few went missing every now and then.

The man took a deep breath and sat down on the cool grass. He stuck his hands into the ground and closed his eyes, enjoying the sense of serenity that surrounded him. If he wasn't worried about being caught, he could see himself napping in the gardens for hours. _Perhaps the man who lives here is kind, and will allow me to work here..._ It was all he could hope for at the moment. Standing up once more, Heracles brushed himself off and took another bite of the daikon. He had to find a safe place to sleep. And so the man left the gardens, unaware that he had been discovered by one of the servants.


End file.
